


Just To Say...

by TheSoulOfAStrawberry



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Employment, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Immigration & Emigration, In which Arthur is adorable, Letter, post-Yverdon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoulOfAStrawberry/pseuds/TheSoulOfAStrawberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's never considered himself as a master of the English language- or anything, really- but he has decided that he needs to write a letter to tell Martin something important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just To Say...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iyori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iyori/gifts).



> I wrote this at about 2AM. Isn't it strange when inspiration strikes? I will write something non-angsty one day... It's not as bad as my other contribution, I suppose!
> 
> Anyway, this is for the lovely Iyori; because most of the time I spent writing this was me staring at the beautiful prints and the adorable drawing she did. I've yet to thank her formally, so I figured you like Martin/Arthur...? I don't actually ship it or anything, but the art is frankly gorgeous, and you can squint at this fic to a similar effect. Enjoy! ^^
> 
> EDIT: Now in comic form for the Alpha Romeo Tango artbook! http://evaholder.deviantart.com/gallery/49285346 on dA or http://evaholderart.tumblr.com/post/82603736744/as-two-months-have-elapsed-since-we-started on Tumblr.

Hey Skip, 

Wow, this is brilliant; writing a letter! I feel very posh. I might end it with "Arthur Shappey Esq" because I've always wanted to be an "Esquire": it sounds so much better than "Mr"- except Mum says the bank won't send me letters as "Esquire", even if I asked nicely for them to (not that she let me). I guess I could call you "Esquire", but then you might not like it the way I do and you might think it's a bit strange. And also, you're a captain, and I don't know if you can call captains "Esquire", so I'll just stick to "Skip", if that's OK with you. 

I came to talk to you about a serious thing, which is why I put it in this letter, because I didn't want my serious thing to upset you- not that I'm saying it would, it probably wouldn't because, well, you know- you're a captain and everything, so you're really authorive or autharative or whatever that word that Mum and Douglas use is. But, I thought, just in case you do, I should put it in a letter, and then you can read it in private whenever you want. Which is now, obviously. Because you're reading this, you see. Unless you're Mum or Douglas because I've been a clot and left this somewhere really stupid, which I won't do, Skip, I promise: cross my fingers, hope to die. But, if you are Mum or Douglas, would you kindly please stop reading now, this letter is for Skip and it's important and private, and you shouldn't read things that say they're private, like Mum's bills. Or, if you don't want to be reading this, Skip, then I suppose you could stop reading now- though, I'd rather you kept on reading if I'm perfectly honest; this letter is really quite important, and I'm not sure I could say it in words. Mostly because of the reasons I've already mentioned, but also because I'd probably forget what I wanted to say a little bit and look silly.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I'm not completely stupid, actually. Oh no... Argh! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I read that back and it looks like a really awful thing to say. It's not anything you've done wrong- I'm not trying to say that you think I'm stupid, though it's alright if you do because I think I'm stupid quite a bit so you agreeing is OK because you agree with me then. That's not even my main point. No- what I mean to say is that I think you've forgotten that I have my people reading skills from Ipswich- and that was my course about being a good steward and stuff, which Mum says I'm not, even though I did the course and tried especially hard not to be over-helpful; rather than that time with Douglas and Mum and you and me and that guy who wasn't from Blue Peter and that shouty man Douglas didn't like. I don't really think anyone got anything out of that- I ruined it a lot for everyone, especially you, Skip, with your funny ear thing in the fuselage. I remember 19 though: the number of passengers at which you absolutely have to need a steward or a stewardess. Though that's not actually what I am supposed to be writing about, and I should probably write what I wanted to say now because otherwise my hand gets tired and my handwriting goes all messy and Douglas says it looks like a spider has rollerskated through ink and then onto my page. So: here it goes. 

Because of my people reading skills, I know you were lying to me in the airport about your interview when you came back from Switzerland, when you said you didn't actually get the job. I'm not going to tell anyone about it because it's not my choice if I want to tell anyone because it's not my secret to tell- and I know you say I'm really bad at keeping secrets but I'm doing my absolute best this time: I've known for a whole week and it's only Snoopadoop and I that know (and Snoopadoop is brilliant at keeping secrets). I don't know why you did it- you know, not tell Douglas and Mum that you got the job. I think they'd be really proud of you. Well, Douglas might pretend he wasn't, but he would be really. And, obviously, I really really want you to stay, not only because we all get to fly around in GERTI and all be together and things, but also because I really like you, Skip- you're a brilliant pilot and you're really nice and I'd miss you lots and lots and lots if you left. 

But, on the other hand, I think it's important for you to move on aswell, because I know Mum doesn't pay you, and, like I said, there's loads of things you could do with a salary of whatever it was. Like, you could stop eating toast and jacket potatoes and buy some nice food... Like pineapples. And a big knife to cut the pineapple with, because it turns out you really need one of those. There's other stuff too- you could buy a bigger house, because I know you don't like where you live, and we picked you up from Parkside Terrace once and I think I worked out which bit of the house you lived in, and I think it must be really small. Have you only got the one skylight? You could not drive the van too- which I don't know if you'd like or not, but what I mean is you wouldn't have to move all those really heavy boxes and pianos around, which I'm pretty sure you don't like doing. And there's Theresa! Theresa is brilliant, you could spend lots more time with Theresa, because I looked it up on Google Maps and it told me that Vaduz, where Theresa would be, is only 110km away from Zurich, where you would probably live I think- that's shorter than from Fitton to Cambridge, and Mum took me there once and it only took about an hour. So you could go and visit lots- and teach Maxi how to play Yellow Car (without cheating)!

Though I don't think you'd be able to visit us lots, because Fitton is 1150km away from Zurich, which I don't think you could do very quickly at all. Unless you were stopping over on a trip, I suppose; but even then, you probably won't fly to Fitton. Maybe Luton, but I didn't really like Luton all that much last time we went with GERTI. Mostly because of what that ATC man said to Mum.

So, what I'm trying to say is, I think you should definitely go for the job with Swiss Air. And I don't mean that in a nasty way, because MJN wouldn't be brilliant without you, because you are the paramount pilot, and even though Mum wouldn't admit it, she needs you because you're a brilliant pilot and I don't think she'd be able to not strangle Douglas if it weren't for you. At least, that's what she said. But, you see, Skip, you're too brilliant for MJN now, which is why you should say yes to Swiss Air. You really really deserve it.

I've run out of things to say now, and my throat feels funny. 

I hope my letter helped. I'm here in real-life if you ever need to talk about stuff.

Arthur Shappey xxx :)


End file.
